His Shining Light
by MichelleDockeryIsMyGirlCrush
Summary: A continuation of 'Just Like Him', in which Mary has an overdue heart-to-heart about Matthew with their much loved son George. Can be read alone, if you prefer. This was meant to be short, but I carried away, so big apologies. Hope you enjoy.


**His Shining Light**

**A continuation of 'Just Like Him'**

Mary quietly followed Tom out of the library, almost hesitantly and Tom knew that she had something on her mind. He knew that, 'that something' was George. She had the same expression, he knew he himself had worn when he was worried about Sybil. Mary paused at the door. She said

_"Thank you for spending time with him. He enjoys seeing you, he always has done, ever since he was quite little."_

_"Mary it's no problem, I love spending time with him."_

He paused before continuing

_"It's not fair is it?"_

_"What isn't?"_ she answered, slightly surprised.

_"That I get to spend so much time with him when Matthew...when Matthew got so little time with him. He's a great kid. You should be proud of him."_

She smiled at this and said softly, almost as if she was afraid of her emotions coming through, but with great conviction and looking at him directly

_"I am. I suppose you could say that I am more fond of him than I am of diamonds. He's my world."_

He smiled at the reference to something she said to him after losing Sybil. Mary then continued

_"I feel the same about Sybil and Sybbie too. Sybbie is becoming quite the beautiful young women. You'll have your hands full keeping the boys at bay."_

He chuckled before answering

_"Well if I had my way, she wouldn't be courting until she was 35 at least, but I'm sure I can count on George to send any scoundrels packing. He and Sybbie have always looked out for each other."_

Mary smiled at this. It was something that both parents had been quite ecstatic with and actively encouraged. Mary and Tom knew that when the time came for them to join their loved ones in heaven they would be safe in the knowledge that, the two cousins, who were more like brother and sister, would still have each other.

Due to their children's friendship and closeness it had brought Mary and Tom closer together, but never romantically. Some people had suggested it before both had remarried as more a way of being convenient and tidy. They had both laughed at the absurdity of the idea. No they saw each other as more as a shoulder to lean on and somebody to turn to, when they needed to talk to someone about their respective offspring.

The sun had gone down somewhat since Tom had arrived at the Abbey, so he put his jacket back on whilst Mary opened the door fully for him. She still had that look on her face, so he asked

_"Mary, was there anything else you wanted to ask?"_

She bit her lip and considered how to phrase her question, she decided on direct, but casual

_"Has George...Has he ever mentioned anything to you about Matthew and I or just Matthew perhaps? I found him looking at some photographs, yesterday, but when I asked him what he was doing, he didn't answer."_

He responded with a simple

_"Yes..."_

Mary looked up from the spot she had been staring at on the floor and let out a breath, she hadn't realised she had been holding before answering

_"Oh, what did he want to know?"_

_"Mary, I can't, he asked me in confidence."_

_"Please Tom..."_ she responded and grasped his arm gently.

_"Alright, but please don't get too upset..."_

He took a deep breath before continuing

_" He wanted to know whether you blamed him for Matthew's death..."_

_"What... No, where has this come from?"_

_"He didn't say."_

_"How can he ever think that. I must speak to him"_ she cried out in distress, looking towards the library where her beautiful boy was reading.

_"No Mary, not yet, talk to him later. Give him time. Give yourself time to think about what you are going to ask and say to him."_

She stopped and just said

_"You're right. You always seem to know what to say."_

His reply was to give her a kiss on the cheek and a fond wave goodbye. As she shut the door, Mary made the decision she would speak to her son after dinner.

Dinner took longer than usual, or so it felt to Mary on this particular evening. George had been allowed to join them as Isobel had come. Due to finding that she was coming, Violet had invited herself too. The two women still had their spats about the changing society, but they had become less frequent due to their shared devotion to both Mary and George.

With dinner finally over, Anthony and Robert stayed in the dining room to enjoy a glass of port and a cigar, while the ladies left for the drawing room. George joined Mary and his Grandmothers in there too. He was sat with Isobel telling her where he had got up to in 'Treasure Island', a book she had gifted to him just the week before. Mary noticed his eyelids starting to droop and him twisting a lock of hair between his fingers. A sure sign that he was tired. She told him it was time for bed, which he protested against. He kept insisting that he was 12 now, practically a man, so he could stay up longer. When Mary refused to let him, he sighed in defeat. He went around giving hugs and kisses to everyone in the room, saving Mary until last, who always received the longest hug and an extra kiss. It was times like this when Mary knew that George was still her little boy and would be for quite a while longer. After he had left the room Cora exclaimed

_"What a dear boy. Mary, my dear you must be so proud of him."_

_"You're the second person who has said that to me today and I am Mama."_

_"He's such a gentle soul... like his father."_ Isobel added sadly

_"Of course he is." _Cora said sympathetically, as she patted Isobel's hand

Again due to their shared tragedy of losing a child it had brought a sort of truce between Isobel and Cora. This was something Mary knew Matthew would have found amusing, as she did, especially as they had been on less than friendly terms when Downton was used as a convalescent home during the war. As the ladies chatted quietly, Robert and Anthony walked in, Robert asked Mary

_"Where's George?"_

_"Gone to bed. He was exhausted. If you'll excuse me, I will go and see that he is alright."_

With that, she stood to leave the room as Thomas opened the door for her. She thought that now was as good a time as any to talk to her son, before she lost her nerve. She walked across the hall and up the grand-staircase to George's room.

The door was still open a crack and she saw a dim light coming from it. She pushed the door open and stood still letting the sight in front of her melt her heart. The light wasn't coming from his bedside table, no George was sat up in bed with the covers over his head. He had a torch in one hand, whilst the other rustled paper, which Mary assumed was his book. He hadn't done this for years, but it still made her smile. She said

_"George Matthew Crawley, I sent you up to bed to sleep not to sit up and read."_

She heard him gasp, as she sat down next to him on the bed and pulled the sheet from over him. He quickly turned the torch off and hid what he was looking at under his quilt. Mary realised that it wasn't his book as she had first thought. She saw it was at the foot of George's bed. She pushed back the lock of hair that always seemed to want to stay out of place on his forehead. It reminded her so much of Matthew, it made her smile. She asked

_"Did you enjoy the afternoon with uncle Tom today? What did you get up to?"_

_"Yes. I was trying him to teach him chess, like Anthony has been teaching me."_

_"Anything else?"_

_"We talked about books. Did you know that uncle Tommy has never read 'Treasure Island'?" _he said incredulously.

_"Really, maybe you can lend him your copy when you have finished reading it."_

_"Yes, I think I might."_

Mary knew she was stalling, but she couldn't bring herself to see the hurt on George's face if she asked him the most pressing issue and they lapsed into a companionable silence. It was George who broke the silence, when he reached for what he had hidden and asked shyly for fear of the answer being no

_"Mummy, may I keep these please?"_

He showed her the two photographs from earlier of her and Matthew and two others. She looked at them and immediately said

_"Of course you can my darling."_

_"Thank you." _he answered as he clutched them tightly.

Mary thought of a way to ask her son about the final part of the conversation he had had with his uncle. As she was deciding, she turned herself on George's bed, so that that she was able to hold him to her, which he gladly reciprocated. George loved these moments alone with Mary, although he would never say it aloud to anybody, because he was after all practically a man, what he didn't know was that they were also his mothers most cherished moments and her favourite part of him being home for the holidays. She soothingly stroked a hand through his hair and kissed his head softly.

George sat up slightly and asked Mary, almost as a whisper

_"Did uncle Tommy tell you anything else about what we talked about in the library?"_

Thank goodness Mary thought, I don't have to find a way to approach the subject.

_"Well yes, he mentioned something about... about your..."_

_"About my Papa."_ He finished for her

_"Yes."_ She simply replied, tears threatening to fall. She looked to the ceiling, wishing for them not to.

_"Uncle Tommy said that I was 'just like him', that I look like you, but that my personality was 'just like him'."_

_"He's right. You are, but you aren't only just like him, you are so like him it is scares me sometimes."_

_"It scares you... how?"_ he enquired confused.

_"Oh my darling, not in a bad way never in a bad way. Some of the things you say and do and the way you react to situations and people less fortunate than you reminds me so much of your Papa."_

_"You never really talk to me about him. I've heard you and Granny Bel and Grandmama and Grandpapa talk to each other about him, but never to me, why is that?"_

_"I don't know, I suppose I wanted you to ask me about him, I suppose I was too scared to."_

_" I thought it was because you blamed me for him leaving us. Uncle Tommy said you didn't but I still thought..."_

He buried his head into Mary, much the way he did when he was a baby and let his tears fall. This time Mary didn't try to stop her tears from falling too, as they fell into George's hair. Together they mourned for the man who had made the biggest hole in their hearts. When they had run out of tears and their breaths had returned to normal Mary told her son

_"I could never ever blame you. Do you understand. You are the one good thing that came out of losing your father. You were his shining light. The best thing to happen in his life. The day you were born, when your father came to the hospital and I placed you in his arms, he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen."_

_"I'm sure you were the most beautiful thing he had seen_..." cut in George as he looked at the photographs of his parents.

( Their wedding photo was his favourite because they looked at each other with so much love and hope for their future.)

Mary didn't respond to this, but carried on with

_"I think for a moment, he had forgotten I was there with you both as he just smiled adoringly at you. It was almost like, to him, at that moment you were the only two people on the planet."_

_"What did he call me? I mean you call me 'my darling', what did papa call me?"_

_"He called you his 'dearest little chap' and you were."_ she said as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

George just nodded at this and they sat there quietly, lost in their own thoughts, for a long time, that Mary thought that George had finally gone to sleep. She went to move one of her arms to get up and jumped when George said tentatively

_"Do you think papa is watching us, from heaven I mean?... No that's silly."_

_"No it isn't and I'm sure he is and that he is smiling and is very proud of what an amazing young man you are becoming as I am."_

_"What do you miss most about him?"_

It took Mary a while to answer this wondering what to tell him. If she was being totally honest it was everything she missed about Matthew. Despite moving on and marrying Anthony, it wasn't the same as it had been with Matthew. She did love Anthony, he had been so kind to her and George and hadn't rushed her into something she didn't want, but she was still in love with Matthew and deep down knew she always would be. She missed the way he made love to her and how he would hold her and carefully wrap them both in the covers afterwards, she missed his scent that was just so Matthew, she missed their banter and their shared humour. Anthony was slightly more serious. She missed how Matthew always thought she was a nice person when others didn't. He was the only one who could buffer her disagreements with Edith. He might not have always understood, but he loved her anyway. However some of these things she could not share with her 12 year old son.

George brought her back from her thoughts by saying louder than he meant to

_"Mummy?"_

_"Sorry, I miss the way his fringe would flop over his forehead like yours does, I miss his smile, I miss being able to talk to him when I want to, I miss hearing his opinion even if we disagreed but most of all I miss that he isn't here with us to share our lives with us."_

_"I miss that too mummy."_

_"I know you do. Goodness it's getting late. You should have been asleep hours ago."_

_"Would you mind if we talk some more about him? Only when you want to."_

_"Of course my darling, but now you need to sleep."_

She got up from his bed, as George lay down and yawned. He was rather tired now, but feeling lighter than he had for a while. Although draining Mary too felt better for this talk with her son. She tucked the covers over George and walked to the door and took one last look at her beloved Matthews shining light, who had literally gone out like a light, as his soft breathing indicated he had fallen asleep. Mary quietly shut the door behind her and said to herself

_"I wish you were still here with us."_

Mary knew that in her heart of hearts that Matthew would remain her one true love. It had taken a conversation with their son for her to finally acknowledge it.


End file.
